Pitched by Goode Ella

Author:Goode, Ella
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Colt

“Looking good, Colt.” Cal, the ticket taker, holds out his fist. I give him a dap.

“You, too, Cal.”

“Who you got with you today?” He peers around my shoulder at GG, who has been sort of hiding behind me since we climbed out of my car.

I tug her forward. “Cal, this is GG. GG, this is Cal, most knowledgeable baseball historian there is. If there’s a stat that exists in baseball, Cal knows it.”

“Not every stat, boy.” Cal grins and winks. He loves the compliment. “This your first day at the ballpark, girl?”

“Um, how did you know?” GG fidgets with the strap of her clear purse.

“You’ve got that big-eyed, never been here before gloss in your eyes. Treat her good, my boy. We want her to come back, right?”

“Right.”

I start down the concourse when Cal grabs my arm. He barks in my ear. “First girl I’ve seen you bring here. Big deal, right?”

I pat his hand. “Big deal.”

“Don’t let her distract you,” he warns.

“I won’t.”

He gives me a pat and a shove. GG pretends like she hasn’t heard every word Cal’s overloud voice shouted into the crowd. I take her by the elbow and direct her to the concession stand. “Hot dog or hamburger?”

“They serve hamburgers here?”

“They serve sushi here.” At her surprised look, I give her a little history. “It used to be regular stadium food like hotdogs, chips, popcorn, beer, but all the stadiums have been upgraded, and you can get fancy stuff, too, like sushi and shit like that. I’m a hotdog person and I only have money for the basics.” There’s no point in me trying to pretend to be deep in the pocket. GG will learn right away that I’m not that kind of guy.

“I’ve never had sushi either. I must be a basics person.” She says this like she doesn’t know.

“Sushi sounds wet and slimy. I don’t think I’d like it. Although Masahiro Tanaka and Gerrit Cole would go on sushi dates. Tanaka had a great slider. Sushi’s good for protein. Low fat, I think. Maybe if you’re rich you like it.” GG’s eyes are glazing over. She does not care about my ruminations. God, I’m bad at this. I shove my hands into my pockets. “Two hot dogs then.”

“Yes. That sounds perfect.”

She isn’t running for the exit...yet. I order our food and lead her down to two seats just a couple rows up from third base. “The bullpen, where the pitchers warm up, used to be over there.” I point to a row of seats. “But they’ve moved it inside so they can sell more tickets.”

“That’s sad.”

“Right? The older stadiums still have them, but they’re being eliminated.” I press my lips together. The game is changing a lot. “They’re even talking about robot umpires who call strikes and balls based on a computer reading.” I hand GG her hot dog. She only got ketchup on hers while mine is loaded with mustard, relish, onion—the whole works.

“You don’t seem excited about it.”

“Who am I

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